Chapter 97: The Unequal Deal

Liam’s eyes were already fixed on Julian.

Could it really have been him?

Julian strolled in freshly showered, crisp white shirt, not a hair out of place. “Mr. Mayer, you look a little pale. Didn’t sleep well?”

Liam’s jaw tightened. No thanks to you. He hadn’t closed his eyes all night after the government site went up in flames.

But that wasn’t something he could admit aloud.

“Probably just not used to the bed,” he said mildly. “You travel the world, Mr. Watson. I’m mostly stationed here at home—my grandfather keeps saying a soldier’s grandson shouldn’t be so soft.”

The jab was subtle but clear. Julian only smiled.

He’d already severed one of Liam’s “arms”—the official who propped up his projects. He wondered how many billions in local GDP had just gone up in smoke. The thought made his coffee taste better.

“My mistake then,” Julian said smoothly. “Next time, I’ll have your bed from home shipped over. I’d hate for insomnia to ruin your health.”

Fire flashed in Liam’s blue eyes, but before the tension could explode, Cora arrived.

She greeted them with a bright smile. “Morning!”

Julian’s molars ground together. She’s glowing. Slept great, apparently.

Liam’s expression softened immediately. “Morning, Mrs. Watson.”

Julian’s response was clipped. “Mm.”

Cora hesitated. “So, uh, we’re actually supposed to discuss the partnership today, right?”

At the table, Riley lifted a hand like a referee stepping between boxers. “Am I interrupting something? I just came to steal breakfast. My boss ditched me to entertain clients, so I’m abandoned.”

Julian looked over. “Cora stayed with you last night?”

“Of course,” Riley said breezily. “Where else would she have been?”

Julian studied Cora. The little mouse blinked, clearly lost. Fine. Maybe he’d overestimated her scheming ability.

He turned back to business. “Breakfast is ready. Mr. Mayer, this way.”

Liam played along, equally composed. Two predators pretending to be polite.

⸻

During breakfast, the air thawed just enough to breathe. But Cora’s brow stayed furrowed.

Julian finally sighed. “What’s wrong with you? You look miles away.”

Cora blinked at him. “Weren’t we here to discuss a collaboration, not… vacation?”

Across the table, coffee nearly went down the wrong pipe. Even Liam choked back a laugh.

Julian rubbed his temple. Of course. Brilliant with paperwork, useless at diplomacy.

Liam’s eyes flicked between them, studying every glance, every pause. The more he watched, the more he wanted to take her away from here.

“You’re right,” Liam said, smiling thinly. “Fun’s over. Let’s talk business. I heard the proposal came from you?”

Cora started to answer, embarrassed. “Actually, I just—”

“Yes,” Julian cut in smoothly. “Cora worked herself half to death on that plan. Makes me feel guilty as a husband.”

Guilty, her ass.

Cora blinked, confused. What’s he up to now?

Riley hid a grin behind her coffee. She’d seen this performance before.

Then the contracts arrived.

Cora’s stomach dropped.

This wasn’t her version at all.

She’d drafted a fair six-to-four split—Watson Group providing resources and energy, Mayer Group handling domestic distribution. Balanced, realistic.

The one on the table?

A full-blown shakedown.

Watson took seventy percent of profits. Mayer got thirty—and handled every domestic and international cost. It was highway robbery in legal form.

Liam read it once, twice. Then laughed—a low, dangerous sound.

“Mr. Watson,” he said, voice like a blade, “is this supposed to be a joke?”

Cora looked between them, utterly lost.

What the hell is going on?

Julian reclined in his chair, calm as a monk.

A soft knock. Austin stepped in, leaned close to murmur something.

Julian’s mouth curved.

At the same moment, Liam’s assistant rushed in with his own urgent whisper.

Liam’s face changed instantly—color draining, eyes narrowing.

“It was you,” he said coldly.

Julian didn’t bother denying it. He simply glanced at Austin. “My wife’s exhausted. Take her to rest.”

“I’m not tired,” Cora protested weakly.

Austin smiled. “Mrs. Watson, the vice president’s waiting. The staff can’t use the resort equipment without your authorization.”

“Oh—right!” Cora stood at once, flustered, and followed him out.

As soon as the door closed, the masks came off.

“Mr. Watson,” Liam said, voice low, “don’t you owe me an explanation for the official who just lost his job overnight?”

Julian looked up, expression innocent. “What are you implying? We spent the whole day together yesterday—and the night too, if I recall.”

Liam’s jaw flexed.

Julian tapped the document with one finger. “Yes, this version is mine. I finalized it this morning.”

He’d spared Cora the fallout, but that only deepened Liam’s anger.

“Tell me,” Julian continued lazily, “Mayer family ties run deep in the military, don’t they? Your grandfather’s still active, half your cousins in politics. Impressive. But tell me—why would a humble businessman like me dare to move against such a powerful family?”

The smile that followed wasn’t kind.

Liam sat back, chest tight with restrained fury. Julian had outplayed him cleanly, and worse—done it while pretending innocence.

Watson Group might stay out of domestic politics, but its reach abroad was enough to shake markets across three continents.

Julian didn’t need this partnership.

Liam did.

And they both knew it.